


Daenerys Misadventures

by nitchgut



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Gangbang, Group Sex, Multi, Out of Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitchgut/pseuds/nitchgut
Summary: A series of stand alone stories featuring Daenerys Targaryen in different sexual situations with the possible appearances of other characters. Little to no plot and a lot of morally reprehensible things happening to fictional characters. Mostly ncon, relec, group sex, etcetera. The story will be tagged as accurately as possible.
Relationships: Daenerys Targaryen / everyone, Daenerys Targaryen/Original Male Character(s), Joffrey Baratheon/Daenerys Targaryen, Kraznys mo Nakloz/Daenerys Targaryen, Robert Baratheon/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 213
Kudos: 97





	1. The Hysterical Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Warning. 
> 
> Please don't read this if the thought of terrible things happening characters you care about will offend of upsets you. I really don't want to offend or upset anyone, I just have some perverted kinks =\\. It's just poorly written smut, mostly featuring reluctant to nonconsensual situations. If that is not your cup a tea please turn back now. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment, even if it is to tell me I'm a terrible person lol. Commentators can vote on what the next chapter will be.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hysterical Queen.
> 
> MMMF NCON
> 
> Varys realizes his Queen is losing her mind and is willing to do anything to stop it.

Tyrion frowned, shook his head, then looked down at his cup half expecting his wine to have been spiked. Never in his life had he heard anything so ridiculous, and just months ago he had been told that an army of dead men were marching south to wipe out mankind. 

Across from him Varys sat still, stone-faced, completely serious with the proposition he had just made. 

Tyrion shook his head in disbelief once again. "That's-" he paused and in one of the few times in his life he found himself at a loss for words. 

"It's what must be done, for the realm," Varys said in a half-whisper. His words were treasonous and he knew better to speak them openly and out loud where anyone might hear. 

Tyrion pinched his eyes closed and could feel the migraine begin to fester. "It's ridiculous, it's insulting, it's misogynistic." 

"You're an intelligent man my friend. It is a lot of things, I know, but it is also the truth and you know it. Our Queen is losing her mind and something must be done or we risk letting the realm suffer for it.” 

"But-" 

"I have kept a close eye on Daenerys Targaryen her entire life, you have not." Varys interrupted. "I know her better than most. Our Queen has lived a hard life. A young, beautiful girl being raised by a brother with little care for anything but his own needs. A brother who undoubtedly took liberties with his sister. But even during all that Daenerys was still a timid and kind girl." 

Tyrion drained his cup, the whole world had gone mad. 

"When our Queen was married to the Dothraki Khal she suffered under him, but she worked to save slaves, she was kind and just. But when he died we both knew what she did. She burnt a woman alive, and joined her in the flames." 

"That woman killed her unborn child," Tyrion retorted, but Varys simply rolled his eyes.

"And then she conquered three cities and killed thousands, torturing, and killing hundreds of noblemen."

"Slavemasters who had crucified hundreds of children," Tyrion interrupted. 

Varys shook his head. "Don't be naive, old friend, I'm sure some of those slave masters were kind and gentle souls and felt bad for murdering children. But it is what happened next that is important. She welcomed a sellsword into her bed and began working towards peace, offering fair trials and forgiveness. She made smart political choices, forged alliances with her enemies. And when she left that man in Meereen to come here she burnt the Tarlys alive and planned on doing the same to King’s Landing." 

"She offered the Tarlys forgiveness, to keep their lands if they pledged fealty to her, and they spat at her feet." 

Again Varys shook his head, "Killing those who won't follow her, and refuse to stop fighting her is going too far. I did not help bring her to Westeros with an army of Dothraki, Unsullied, and three dragons just so she could wage wars on her enemies." 

Tyrion gulped down the last of his wine, his alcohol riddled mind finally clueing in on what Varys was saying. He paused for a moment, not sure he even believed what he was about to say. 

"And then she met Jon Snow-" Tyrion continued Varys line of thought, "-and instead of burning down King's Landing she tried to make peace of Cersei." 

Varys nodded. "And now that Jon Snow is distancing himself from her she is unraveling once again. The pattern is there, it is clear, if we do not do something she will be a danger to herself and the entire world." 

"People don't go insane because they haven't had sex, trust me, I know," Tyrion pleaded. "Her oldest friend, Jorah, just died. We just won a war against an army of undead. You can't possibly think this just because she was sad at one feast?" 

Varys shook his head. "And dead men don't come back to life. And dragons can't fly from Dragonstone to the Wall in under a day. And you shouldn't care two shit's about your sister who keeps trying to murder you. And yet you do, and yet we are here." 

"It's just so ridiculous," Tyrion muttered but the defeat was evident in his voice. A few years ago he would have fought against the idea, he could have figured out a smarter plan, made a stronger rebuttal. His mind had been his sword, but that sword was now rusted and dull and turning to dust. He looked down at the cup in his hand and felt as empty as it. 

"Indeed my old friend, and an ugly truth, but an ugly truth is still the truth. There is a pattern in her behavior, Daenerys Targaryen needs to get fucked before she goes insane."

"And what are we supposed to do about that?" Tyrion pondered. It was a queer thought but he had to admit he and everyone around him seemed to be consumed with talking about and making joke about cocks lately. 

He shifted slightly in his seat, feeling the blood rush in his cock. Varys clearly wasn’t up the task, but he… he would be more than willing to fuck the sanity back into his Queen. He bit his cheek knowing it would never happen, but still his cock swelled. 

"We are going to make it happen, for the realm!" 

Tyrion looked up from his thoughts at Varys and wondered what devious plan the eunuch had set in motion. 

-

Daenerys shifted in her sleep, a sound from her chamber doors rousing her from her slumber. She gave a slight shiver as a cold breeze danced over her and she couldn't help but think how much she detested this Northern land. 

She rolled her from her side onto her back then froze, she was not alone in her chambers. Dark silhouettes of figures stood around her bed. Her sleep wary eyes unable to make out more than dark shapes, backlit by the half-dead fire in her hearth. 

"Guar-" she called out, but before silenced by a large calloused hand clamping down over her mouth. 

"Shhh--" a deep northern accented voice warned. "Ain't no one gonna hear ya."

Her eyes wide, she twisted immediately, thrashing her legs, kicking her blankets down and reached up to grab the hand on her mouth. The men around her moved as quickly as she had. Grabbing at her struggling arms and legs pinning them to the bed. 

"Your cockless guards can't hear ya, can't help ya," the man said again bending down closer to her. She could smell the stink of ale on his breath. 

Her eyes went to the door, closed, unguarded. Her Unsullied absent. 

He pulled his hand away, but before she could speak cold steel against her neck silenced her. 

"No point in yelling," the Northerner said, he licked his lips and let his eyes roam down her body. She breathed heavily, shuddering with the thought of what this man planned to do with her. The thin nightgown she wore clung tightly on her body, twisted under her, pulling tight across her breasts and stomach. "You can moan as much as you like though." 

She glared at the man, making sure to take in all his features, to remember who he was. The crooked nose, small eyes, yellow teeth. She glanced down at the foot and side of the bed to the others surrounding her bed. She would remember all their faces. 

"After all I did for you," she spat, neck outstretched to keep the steel blade from cutting into her skin. "I saved you all. You would all be dead without me." 

"Aye," the Northerner agreed. He let the knife slip from her neck, trailing over her collar bone, down to her gown, letting the blade catch on the expensive fabric. The silk gave easily against the sharp edge and split, and Daenerys trembled and hissed out a harsh breath between clenched teeth. 

The man's eyes locked on her breasts as the gown went slack, cut down the middle, the fabric held by place, caught on Daenerys hardened nipples. 

"You and your barbarians and monsters saved us and we are forever grateful," he said and then Daenerys heard the shuffling of clothes, and swallowed. The man reached inside his trousers, they all reached inside their trousers and began pulling their cocks out. "We are only here to show how grateful we are." 

Daenerys looked away, up at the cold stone ceiling above her. She hissed out a breath when she felt one of the men's hands press up against her breast cupping her almost gently, his thumb running across her nipple before his dirty fingers squeezed her. Another hand came to rest on her thigh, the rough calloused fingers pressing into her soft flesh, pulling her legs apart. 

She twisted abruptly, earning a few laughs but nearly as quickly as she moved more hands grasped at her, none of them gentle, and quickly pressed her back into the feather-filled mattress. 

She held her head up and stiff, her face stern. "You'll all die for this," she growled in defiance.

The man above her, their apparent leader chuckled, "I'm sure you'll be worth it." His hand was on her cheek, his cock bobbing in front of her face, he was long, thick, and hard. She grimaced and tried to twist her face away. 

His cock pressed against her mouth, rubbing against her lips, a trail of precum left across her cheek. She felt hands return to her thighs, pulling her legs apart, digging into her flesh, lifting and pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. 

She would kill them all, burn them to a crisp, her dragons would tear this entire castle down to its foundations. 

"Oh," she gasped as she felt the hard, long shaft of a cock flop down onto her lower stomach. She looked down wide-eyed at the man between her legs, his member bouncing between his legs, swollen, red and angry. She pulled her legs together, but he easily kept them apart. 

This was really happening. Queen or not it did not matter. Her armies did not matter, her dragons did not matter. She was as helpless as she was the day her brother had sold her to her first husband.

She twisted in one desperate attempt to free herself, but the men were too fast, too strong. Hands grabbed her arms, one went around her neck, all of them forcing her back down into the bed. 

A soft whimper escaped her lips as she felt the man's fingers trace along the slit of her sex. She trembled, then gasped as she felt the bulbous head of his cock push up against her. 

She leaned up, looking down between their bodies, not knowing why she wanted to watch them defile her, why she needed to see. Filthy hands held her thighs open, dirt-filled nails digging into her pristine pale skin, his cock was thick, his foreskin pulled back, the head weeping precum as it pressed against her folds. Teasing her, teasing himself. She watched transfixed as the muscles in his stomach flexed in anticipation and she felt herself mirror it. 

They would fuck her, they would rape her. They all would. Her mouth, her cunt, they would use her as they saw fit and she could do nothing to stop it. But before she could witness him defile her she was pulled down again, her head pressed against the bed. 

"Open your whore mouth," a cock pressed against her lips, pushing past them then rubbing against her clenched teeth. The hand around her neck tightened until it became difficult to breathe. 

They would choke her to unconsciousness before she would taste that man's cock. 

"Ahh," she couldn't stop herself from moaning as the man between her legs pushed into her, her body spreading, cunt stretching wide as she was penetrated slowly. At the same time, he pressed his thumb against her clit making small circles against the bundle of nerves there. 

It was enough to make her gasp and with her mouth open the cock pushed through and she groaned, the man standing above her head joined her, his hand tangling in her silver-blonde braids. Her senses were flooded with the taste of his cock, salt and sweat and things she did not wish to think off. 

Her cheek bulged, the force of his cock stretching her skin. Her cunt clenched around the man fucking her, his hands dug into her hips and he thrust forward, pushing more of himself inside of her tight body. She cried out a moan vibrating around the cock in her mouth. Her tongue pressed against him trying to force him out of her mouth. She twisted her head, but he just forced more of himself down her throat until she gagged and felt tears spring to her eyes. 

More hands were on her breasts, her legs, feet and hands, groping her, feeling and pinching. What was left of her nightgown was torn, left in tatters wrapped around her waist. 

She hated it. Hated them, hated how the cock inside her bulged, stretched out her cunt. She hated how tightly her body squeezed him, how warm and wet she felt. She hated the blush she could feel spread across her face and cheeks as she was taken, raped, fucked. 

She hated the sounds she made as she moaned around the cock. How good it felt to be filled. 

She wasn't a Queen, not there and then, not in that moment. She was a no more than the helpless girl she had been growing up, no more than the sex slave of the Dothraki horse lord, no more than a sexual plaything for an arrogant sellsword. She was a thing to be used, a thing to be fucked and she hated that deep inside some part of her liked it. 

She moaned, twisted her head, rolled her hips enough to force the man to slip from her cunt. 

"Still got some fight in ya aye," she heard one of the men say, before more hands gripped her, his cock once against pressing against her cunt. 

He drove into her with steady, hard thrusts and she couldn't' help but gasp and whimper with each one. He found a steady rhythm, thrusting himself in and out, fucking her. She squirmed, and whined, and whimpered, but she refused to let them see her cry, or beg. She refused to acknowledge the warmth spreading from between her legs, the tingle of pleasure building at the base of her spine. 

Her body tensed and struggled to fight the feeling back. Her legs spread wide, the man is sweating on top of her, his slick flesh pressing against her own. Her cunt aching, her nipples hardening, tightening into small pebbles of oversensitive flesh. 

"Please," she whimpered in a rare moment when her mouth is free of cock, but before she could say anymore her mouth was filled once again. 

She groaned and began to suck on the man, twirling her tongue around the head of his cock. Her head bobbing back and forth in a barely noticeable movement. Hands went dug into her hair, dirty fingers digging under her braids, guiding her head intensifying her movements back and forth. 

“That’s it, your Grace,” she heard the man speak through a moan as she sucked on him, licked at his shaft, swallowed his cock. Drool spilled from the side of her lips, and she gurgled as the head of his cock pushed against the back of her throat only to gasp as he pulled back. She sucked in a deep breath, her tongue lashing against the underside of his glands before he guided her head and pushed himself deep into her throat once again. 

Like the man fucking her cunt, he found a steady, all three of them did, moving in unison, fucking each other. 

She wouldn't let them win, she pushed back, lifting her hips, meeting that man fucking her. She wouldn't let them see her as weak and helpless. Her tongue pressed against the man's cock in her mouth. 

They were laughing at her now, urging her on, calling her names, "whore," "slut," "wench." Hands were everywhere, every bare piece of flesh, rough calloused fingers groping and pulling and pinching. The sensation was overwhelming. She was pressed into the bed, rough and hard, the cock pounding into her cunt punishingly fast. The sound of their bodies joining sickening in her ears, the feel of the cock in her throat, the taste of him. 

She felt the cock in her mouth throb and was rewarded with a flood of warm bitter seed coating her teeth and tongue The taste, the disgust, the desperate need was enough to send her spiraling. She swallowed the man’s cum then gasped as every muscle in her body tightened and tensed, then released, and spasmed again. 

She held back her moan, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. But she knew they knew what had just happened. That they had made her cum. The way her body shook, her eyes pinched close, her cunt convulsed and squeezed the cock inside her. 

She gasps silently, barely feeling another splash of cum squirt across her face and that moment she didn't care about anything but basking in the feeling of her own release, a release from her worries, the stress, the anger, the hate. She could see stars behind her pinched closed eyes, white bursts of light matching the bursts of pleasure roaring through her like dragonfire. Her body went limp, defeated, unwilling, and unwanting to fight it anymore. 

The sound she makes surprises even her, a wanton, whorish moan of need escaping her lips as the man inside her continues to fuck her, drive his cock into her aching cunt with rough hard strokes. His body slick with sweat, dripping onto her, they're bodies grinding together. Her body rocks with each movement, each thrust making her gasp. She's surrounded by them, by it, a need for more. 

She reached up, burying herself under him hiding, her hips moving up to meet him. She was still riding high, but she could cum again if she just-- 

"Fuck me," she moaned softly, just enough so only the man inside her can hear. And he does roaring to life, he fucks her like he hates her, like she needs to be punished, and the rough debasing treatment is enough to make her cum again and this time she does not hold back, she cries out loudly, a wail of pleasure as every muscle in her body clamps down on the man fucking her. 

He swears as he joins her release, jerking wildly into her crushing his cock into her cunt. She feels him swell inside her tight wet cunt and her body follows suit, clenching down around him, her legs squeezing him close. He empties himself inside her and she cums again, her cunt convulsing around him, milking his cock for it's worth. She can barely think, her body acting of its own according, thrusting her hips up with clumsy trembling movements as she continued to whimper and moan under him. 

He collapsed onto her, and she welcomed the pressure of the weight of him but in no time he's being pulled off of her. Daenerys watched in a daze as his cock slipped free of her body, a wave of emptiness washing over her. She could feel his seed drip from her but she couldn't think too much on it as the Northerner is replaced with another. She kept her legs spread for him. 

This time they roll her over, grab her hair and force her to arch her back. She lifted her hips with a moan and sank down onto the cock below her, impaling herself on him until he was nestled tightly inside her body. 

Hands go to her breasts, cupping and pulling on her nipples as she shudders and gasps, lifts her hips relishing in the feeling of her cunt stretching around his cock and begins to ride him. She was soaking wet, dripping over his shaft. She squeezed her thighs together wanting to keep his cock inside her as she moved faster, harder, moaning, lost in her own little world of lust. 

She felt the hands first, large long fingers grasping her ass, then warm liquid splashed over her butt, between her cheeks, then she felt it, the first probing test to the tight ring of muscles. 

"Gods," she groaned, then felt the man press against the bulbous head of his cock first, then his shaft sliding up between the valley of her ass, between her cheeks. He pressed himself into the cleft, squeezing her ass together before pulling himself down, trailing the head of his cock against her skin, lower and lower until he stopped over the tight ring of muscle. He gave a slight shove and she felt her body give way slightly, opening to the man. 

She whimpered, her cunt clenching around the man below her. 

Daario had loved to fuck her ass, have her ride him raw until she had was left a quivering mess of flesh that could barely think. It was demeaning, disgusting and she had loved it. But she had never taken two men at once, let alone three. Never had felt the feeling of being filled completely with cock. 

She pushed back, her eyes closed. the man below her reached up cupping one breast then sliding his teeth over another. She sank down on him, spearing the entire length of his cock inside of her, delighting in the pain and pleasure of it stretching and filling her. She held still, breathing ragged and waited for the man behind her to force himself into her ass. 

The first inch hurt, making her cry out, quickly silenced as one of the free men took advantage of the opening, and offered his cock for her mouth. She took him in, sliding her tongue around his cock, her lips sealing around his shaft, bobbing her head back and forth like a Fleabottom whore. 

She wheezed, gasped, the gagged as the cock pushed into her throat, and two others began to fuck her. 

She had never been taken by three men at once, never used to thoroughly. She moaned, pushed back, and lost herself in the feeling. She wanted to scream at them, demand them to fuck her harder. 

For the first time since she had come to the North she forgot about her problems. About the man she loved ignoring her. About the Northerners that hated her and her armies that had come to save their lives, the armies of the dead to the North, the armies of the living to the south. All forgotten in a moment of pain and pleasure, of pure instinctive fucking. 

She came hard, crying out around the cock in her mouth. she hissed a sharp breath then sealing her lips around him and sucked. Her cunt and ass clenching around the men impaling her. 

Warm seed explode into her mouth, coating her tough and teeth, splattering against the back of her throat, she swallowed greedily never tasting anything so sweet. She whimpered and trembled as her orgasm washed through her. He pulled out from her, another spurt of cum splashing out against her cheek, nose and eyes.

She had barely any time to rest before a hand was in her hair wrenching back on her head. Her head forced up another man waiting, cock hard and ready. 

She whimpered, her mouth opening as she took him next, swallowing as much as she could. She flexed her legs, driving herself harder onto the man below her, arched her hips giving the man in her ass more leverage to fuck her. Her hands dug into the man's chest as she desperately tried to hold onto anything, she heard him cry out but she did not care. She would use them as they were using her. 

They continued to fuck her, use her, fill every hole. When one man finished, another took their place. She made sounds undignified for who she was. Her braids that once signified her victories in battle used like reins on a horse to better ride her. She begged them to never stop in High Valyrian. She came over and over. She blacked out for moments at a time, only to come too to laugher and cocks being slapped across her face. 

By the end her body ached, covered in her own sweat and the semen of a dozen men. Cum leaked from her cunt, ass and mouth as she laid in her ruined bed exhausted, sated, and content as her attackers finally slipped out of her chambers. And for the first time since Jon had shared their bed she slept peacefully and without worry. 

-

The Unsullied were an amazing group, Varys thought to himself as he watched the small group of satisfied Northerners leave the Queen's chambers. Loyal to a fault, unquestioning in their orders. Come to think of it they were barely people at all, more mindless drones that would have made the Night King envious. 

The Unsullied knew he held power in their Queens court so they did not question him when he removed the guards guarding the Queen's chambers. They did not question him when he told them to wait. And most importantly they did not question him when he ordered them to follow each of the men who left their Queens chambers and kill them in their sleep and dispose of the bodies. 

It was his duty to protect the realm and the Queen. To anticipate her needs before she knew them and it was in no one's best interest for the world to know how much of a crazy whore Daenerys Targaryen actually was. 

Authors Notes: You made it this far! Hope you liked it. 

In a selfish attempt to garner more comments and reviews I'll give you my idea for new chapters, if you prefer one, or have one of your own feel feel to leave a comment. 

1\. Daenerys is taken as sex slave in Astapor instead of freeing the Unsullied.  
2\. Drogo decides to share Daenerys with his bloodriders  
3\. Femdom story where Dany takes Jon captive at the end of season 8  
4\. A post series Sansa story where she is forced into a political marriage to keep power in the North.  
5\. Fuck game of thrones and go back to my Ciri story.  
6\. a brand new idea you have.  
7\. I'm a terrible human being and I should stop writing forever.


	2. The Slave Queen: Volantis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU where Daenerys time in Astapor goes poorly and she ends up a slave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Warning. Pointless and potentially offensive and poorly written smut ahead, sex slave kink, ncon. Stop reading if that's not your cup of tea and/or might upset you. Thanks and enjoy.

Thank you for all the comments, reviews, and votes, sorry to those I didn’t respond too. 

Daenerys being a slave was the overwhelming winner for the next chapter. Second place was a tie between Sansa forced into a marriage, and Drogo sharing Daenerys with his blood riders. There were a lot of great new ideas so I will be adding them all to the vote for the next chapter which you can find at the end of his chapter. 

Thanks for reading, and leaving comments, hope you enjoy this chapter and vote for the next. 

***

The heat within her burned with an intensity that always surprised her, always thrilled her. She squeezed her thighs together on top of Drogon’s back. He was fire made flesh, and that fire radiated throughout her. 

Daenerys Targaryen watched with wild eyes as Volantis burned. The western half of the ancient city lit aflame by dragon fire, lighting the night sky like a second son, but that destruction was but a mere distraction. Drogon now hovered above the eastern gate. The towering wall of iron and steel that had kept the city safe from its enemies for centuries now lay in ruin, reduced to nothing more than a rubble of broken steel and stone. 

She could smell the fires, taste the burned stone and wood in her mouth. She could hear the screams of the men and women below as the Dothraki and Unsullied poured into the city and did what they did best. 

She squeezed her legs tighter around Drogon’s neck, her eyes glassy, she swallowed hard, feeling his warmth join her own and spread through her. The battle was won, the war was over, another free city had fallen. She needed to return to her master and be rewarded. 

The war camp was set up in the valley outside of the city, safely out of the range of the city's defenses.

Wood from the neighboring forests had been pillaged, fashioned into spikes to make a makeshift wall to surround the tents. Inside a thousand Unsullied stayed behind to protect the Good Masters who awaited her return. 

She landed Drogon a few hundred feet from the camp and was greeted by her personal Unsullied guards and made her way to the camp. 

Even at night the Essosi air felt hot, thick and humid. It blanketed her through her armor, making sweat pour down her already soaked skin, but it was little bother to her, she had always liked the heat. The leather collar around her neck, adorned with gold and silver dragons, felt tight against her throat. Her heart raced as she made way to the large lavish pavilion where Master Kraznys stayed.

He was waiting for her, a lopsided cocksure grin on his face as she entered the tent. 

“Is it done?” He asked in Valyrian. 

She bowed her head to him. “It is, just as you had planned, your Unsullied and the Dothraki sack the city as we speak.” 

The slave master’s grin widened still. He stood. 

“Good,” he paused, a slave girl handing him a cup of wine, ”good.” 

Kraznys approached her. With a wave of his hand three young women were at her side. They reached for her armor undoing the leather straps that held her breastplate on. She stood tall, proud, back straight as the slave master approached. 

She was covered in sweat, and soot, she smelled of ash and smoke. She could still hear the men and women and children screaming. She bit the inside of her cheek, exhaled tightly between clenched teeth. Her eyes watching his every step. 

The straps on her shoulders went slack, the plate that covered her chest coming free. One of the young girls grabbed it before it fell to the floor. Next came the bracers. Delicate fingers began working on the ties there, lifting her arms. Then the buttons of the leather jerkin she wore under the plate. They were nearly halfway down, the cloth open just enough to give a hint of her bare breasts before the women stopped and pulled away. 

Kraznys stood beside her now. “You did good, you fought well.” he said in the common tongue, his accent thick enough to be nearly undecipherable, “You should be rewarded.”

Rewarded, yes, her body hummed in anticipation. 

Her lips parted and she let out a trembling breath and then fell to her knees as she had done countless times before. He stood over her, Kraznys was not a particularly tall man, but on her knees he loomed over her like a god, and she was his lowly worshipper. 

“Is that not better, slave?” he asked, his hands lightly brushing through her hair. “Where you belong. When you came to me you were so proud, so foolish.” 

Daenerys reached into his robes, her hands finding his member, fingers wrapping around his shaft. 

“A foolish little girl that did not know her place.” he huffed as her fingers enclosed his length and loosely began stroking him. He was putting on a show for the men who watched. For his generals, for the other Good Masters in the tent and even the other slaves. Daenerys had learned quickly how much he liked showing how he had tamed the last of the dragons. 

“Yes master,” she muttered, feeling him swell in her hand. She had been foolish, she had been reckless, dangerous and he had shown her the way. Her family, her dragons, herself, she was a blight on the world, destined to spread fire and blood to every man and woman and child. 

She had enjoyed watching her brother die. She had enjoyed Drogo raping her. She enjoyed the pain and death that seemed to follow her wherever she went. Just tonight she had enjoyed burning Volantis, riding high in the sky above the rest, hearing their screams, smelling their burned flesh. She enjoyed knowing that even now the Dothraki ran wild inside the city, raping the women, killing the men while the Unsullied stood guard. It excited her, it thrilled her to no end. 

She trembled with the thought, her cunt aching, dripping wetness down the side of her thigh. She knew she would gladly light the world aflame and watch the world burn for her own pleasure. And she knew how terrible and wrong that was, how terrible and wrong she was. She pulled his cock free, her mouth opened slightly, lips parted. 

But here, on her knees, before this man was where she belonged, where she deserved to be. She did not have a choice to burn down the world. She was merely a tool to be used and aimed. He would control her, he would use her, with him the damage she could do would be limited. But she would enjoy what she could. 

She leaned forward, brushing the head of the slave masters cock against her lips, her tongue darting out to taste the precum on his tip. He groaned and she moved forward, taking more of him into her mouth. 

She closed her eyes, sealed her lips around his shaft and began to move suckling on his cock like the bed slave she was. The bed slave he had trained her to be. She moaned, one hand trailing up his thigh to hold them both steady, the other hand reaching for his shaft, stroking him as she sucked. 

She ignored the other slaves in the room, ignored Kraznys servants, his generals, she worked his cock, sliding her tongue across the sensitive flesh, delighting in the feel of his him throbbing in her mouth, the way his member swelled to his full length and girth on her tongue. She loved nothing more than the feeling of his hands in her hair, nails digging into her scalp as he helped her bring himself off. 

The only thing greater, the only thing she wished for more was for him to allow her to fuck him, to bury his beautiful cock deep inside her body. She ached for it for him nearly every waking moment.

She pulled back, dragging her lips up his shaft, letting her tongue slide against the underside of his glands until she pulled free, saliva dripped from her lips to his head. She stared at him for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss the tip, then she rolled her hand up and down his shaft stroking him from root to tip. She pressed her lips against his shaft, kissing and licking her way down to the base of his cock, her hand still steadily jerking him off. 

Her mouth closed around one testicle, bringing it gently into her mouth as she nursed on it. Her fingers tightening around his cock making the Good Master groan. Faster she stroked him, harder she sucked on his balls until she felt him groan and swell in her hand. She squeezed down hard stopping her ministrations. She would not waste his seed by spilling it across her face and hair, she needed to taste him, swallow his offering. Giving him time to recover slightly before she lovingly kissed her way back to the head of his cock. She glanced up briefly at her master, his mouth open, his face floored with pleasure, before taking him once again into her warm, wet mouth. 

His cocked throbbed and the sensation reverberating through her entire body, down her neck, across her chest and breasts, through her stomach until her cunt clenched. She moaned back against him, vibrating against his cock, needy and wanting more, she took more of him in, burying her face into his groin. She gagged as his cock pressed into her throat but she did not relent, holding herself there, letting the tears spill from her eyes and drool from her mouth. 

She gagged again and her body convulsed around him, throat tightening as she struggled to breathe. 

Kraznys said something, a half moan, she couldn’t make it out from the ring in her ears, the throbbing of her cunt. His fingers dug painfully into her head and he thrust forward moaning, she felt him swell, then throb, the first pulse of cum unleashing directly down her throat. 

She pulled back, gasping, but still kept her mouth sealed around his cock. The second pulse filled her mouth, covered her tongue, she moaned, looked up at him. His head was thrown back, the veins in his neck thick and pronounced, his skin red. She sucked on him, twirling her cum covered tongue against the sensitive swollen head of his cock. 

She was rewarded with another spurt, smaller this time, and she swallowed him again. She held him there, cradling his cock with her tongue, gently suckling on it, while her hand stroked his shaft, pumping him for all he was worth. 

Kraznys body went slack, and she felt him release, he pulled back every so slightly and she followed suit, sliding his cock out of her mouth, catching the head with her lips, giving one cleaning suckle before he popped free. She stared at his member for a moment, marveling at it, before she dutifully slipped him back under his robes. 

“Good,” he muttered out of breath and she watched him stumble back to his chair. There was a servant beside him in seconds with a glass of wine which he drank heavily from. 

Daenerys stayed still on her knees and watched him, waiting for his next command. 

He took a few heavy breaths, but did not once look at her, instead turning to the men at his sides, his advisors, his generals. 

She waited as a beautiful dark-skinned girl relayed him information about the battle. How his plans that she had executed went, her burning of the western section of the city, the destruction of the walls, the sacking by the Unsullied and Dothraki. Kraznys seemed pleased, if a little disinterested. Volantis is just another city, the fourth on his way west since he had broken her and bent her to his will. 

The council continued, food and wine was brought in and ate as the slave masters discussed further plans, congratulated themselves on another victory and decided how they would divide the city's plunder. All the while she waited on her knees, her clothes half removed. Kraznys didn’t spare her a second glance, seemingly more interested in his wine and food and the opinion of his generals and other masters. But the same could not be said about those generals and slave masters. More than often she found them staring at her, their eyes lingering before turning their attention back to the discussion at hand. 

It was nearly an hour before Kraznys finally tired of the discussion and dismissed them and turned his attention back to his greatest prize. He motioned to her and Daenerys stood obediently, letting the blood circulate through her legs for a moment before sauntering over to stand next to the small throne-like chair he lazed on. 

For this, she did not need to be told what to do. She was Daenerys Targaryen, last of her great house. Now she stood over Kraznys as he leaned back in his chair. Two slave girls approached again, finishing the work they had started, undoing the remaining buttons on her jerkin before they began undoing her belt. The air was thick, and hot, and damp, but goosebumps still dance across her skin in the wake of every touch made by the slave girls undressing her. 

She was the Mother of Dragons. Rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms. Her pants were pulled down, pooling around her feet. Long smooth pale legs stepped out from them. 

Kraznys gaze trailed down her body, lingering on her bare sweat covered perky breasts, her chest flush, nipples hard. At Kraznys side she had conquered Yunkai, Meereen, and now Volantis. She stepped forward, lifting on leg, mounting her master's throne, delicately kneeling between beside his thighs on the oversized seat. 

His hands reached around, squeezing her ass, separating the cheeks before squeezing them together. Daenerys shuddered and bit her lip, her hands clutching on his robbed shoulders. She could not stop herself, she pressed down, grinding her bare sex against his hardening cock through his expensive silks. 

“Is this what you want, slave?” Kraznys asked in a low guttural tone, 

Daenerys nodded quickly, her hand reaching between them, easily finding his cock and stroking him to his full length. 

“You enjoy it don’t you? Burning the city, watching those men and women burn? Like your mad father before you?” 

Her grip tightened around his cock making him grunt and then laugh, his hand slipped between her legs, fingers pushing inside her aching cunt. 

“Still some fight left inside you pet? I thought I broke all of that out of you years ago? Still your wet cunt does not lie.” he smirked then pulled away his hand reaching for his cup, he leaned back as much as he could, emptied the cup then motioned for her to get on with it, “you’ve earned your reward slave.”

Daenerys paused for a moment, whimpering at the loss of his touch. The same touch that had broken her. She had first come to Astapor years ago, a naive girl with three tiny dragons, how foolish she had been to think those in power would not simply take what they wanted. Astapor had stood for a thousand years, sold and bred slaves for all that time, it was their way of life, their culture, what right did she have to change any of that. 

She held him steady, pressing the head of him against her throbbing sex. Teasing herself momentarily before she sank down. She can remember the first day he took her, the chains around her arms and legs, the leash around her neck. She could remember screaming, the pain of his thick cock defiling her body, the feeling of his fingers digging into her waist. She could remember the first thrust, the first time he raped her, the first time he had cum inside her.

She can remember the dark room they kept her in, the chains kept on her limbs, the clothes stripped from her body. The lack of food or water, the whips against her skin. She can remember begging for water, for food, for relief. 

And she can remember the day they came to her, not to hurt her, but to feed her, to massage her sore muscles, to kiss and play with her. She could remember the taste of the poison they fed her, the strange impossible things it made her see and feel. 

She remembered the first day she was taken, she can remember the pain. And she can remember the first day she asked for it, the first day they had made her cum. 

The pain is still there, the thickness of his cock stretching her out, only now she loved it, she craved it, she needed it. 

Some small part of her hated it. Hated how much she wanted to please this man. She lifted her hips, feeling her cunt cling to his cock, then plunged back down, moaning as she moved, riding him as she rode her dragons. 

He was a slaver, a terrible person but so was she, and he had broken any hope of her being better a long time ago. He had killed many of her friends, but she was not without guilt. She deserved his. She needed this. 

His hands went to her behind, gripping the flesh of her ass. She rolled her hips, groaning, eyes rolling back. It was better this way, her madness contained and controlled. Faster she moved, panting on his cock. 

Ass giggling, breasts swaying, she hugged his body as close as she could while cursing the awkward position on his throne that wouldn’t let her fuck him the way she wanted. 

It was better this way, all the excitement, the rush, the pleasure of watching cities burn before her, of men and women cowering in fear and respect with none of the guilt. She had no choice, she had to do it. Her cunt clenched as she felt the first wave of ecstasy pulse from his cock up her spine. A few slave cities burned, what did it matter, the rest of the world would be saved from her madness. 

"Ahh," she moaned her and her legs began to tremble. She closed her eyes and grunted, letting the first wave of pleasure wash over her. Then she squealed as she came, her body shaking, her cunt tightening around his cock. She pushed herself down, burying the entire length of the slave masters cock inside of her. 

She felt him throb, his cock swelling inside her, no doubt filling her with his seed. The thought, the feeling, sent her spiraling even deeper over the edge. Her toes curled, her eyes rolled back as she arched her back and cried out shaking on top of him. 

Kraznys gripped her tightly, his hips lurching up and his hands dug into her flesh, urging her to keep moving, he grunted and she moaned loader still, trembling. 

"More slave," Kraznys demanded, and she rode him faster, impaling herself on his cock. She deserved this, deserved him. She thought of all that she had done tonight, all the death, the destruction the countless burned. The power and strength and heat of Drogon between her legs, throbbing with every breath, with every kill. 

“Please,” she cried out as she came again all over his cock, her mouth opened wide in a silent breathless moan. She lurched forward, sliding down his cock back onto his lap. His silks were soaked with her wetness, ruined, but she did not care. Her body tightened on top of him as she shook and rode him harder, and harder, until her body could barely move anymore until she could do nothing more but collapse on top of him. 

“You did good slave,” she heard him whisper. His hands almost gently trailing up her back as they both sat there. Their labored breaths the only sound filling the large tent. She could feel his seed drip from her well used cunt. She could still hear the screams of the men and women burning below her. 

It wasn’t her fault anyway, the men and women dead, burned alive. It wasn't her fault so willingly gave her mind and body to this slaver, this monster. She was a tool to be used, no more to blame for taking the lives of others as a knights sword. She was a slave. 

Kraznys stood and she slipped off him to the floor, half kneeling before him. He adjusted himself, putting himself back under his robes before looking down at her with a grin. 

“You are not the only one who did good today,” he spoke, Daenerys bowed her head, “my generals also achieved great things during the battle.” 

Daenerys looked up, finding that Kranzys' generals had reentered the tent. 

“Should they not be rewarded as well?”

Daenerys watched as the men approached her, treacherous grins on their faces. 

Great men and wise rulers know when to reward their followers, and Master Kraznys was both of those. One of his generals lifted her to her feet, another cupped her breasts, another pulled on her braid until her back arched and her lips parted and he could push his fingers into her mouth. Kraznys was a great man, and Daenerys, Daenerys was a slave. 

***

Thanks for reading. The plot of this one kind of spiraled in a different direction as I originally planned and ended up just being a slice of slave life so-to-speak. I’ll add more slave situations in the possible next chapters. I added a list of all the commentator requests as well, anything that gets a vote will be carried over to the next chapters vote. Vote for as many as you like.

1.Daenerys sex slave (her first few months of her being broken)  
2\. Daenerys sex slave, Barriston Selmy/Daenerys encounter  
3\. Daenerys sex slave Jon/Daenerys  
4\. Daenerys takes Jon as her slave after season 8  
5\. Drogo shares Dany with his blood riders  
6\. Sansa is forced into a marriage with a man she hates (post season 8)  
7\. Back to the Ciri story  
8\. Khals don’t burn, instead, they have their way with Dany.  
9\. Arya/Dany femdom, Arya dominated Dany and rules from the shadows  
10\. Missendai’s past as a slave  
11\. New Khal takes Dany as his wife  
12\. Tyrion rapes Dany when he’s in jail (season 8)  
13\. Sansa manipulates Dany into giving herself to the Northern Lords to garner their support.  
14\. Dany grows up in the red keep as Joffery’s plaything  
15\. Dany is Queen, but in order to get pregnant she sleeps with everyone  
16\. Cersei wins, captures Dany, Sansa, Margery.  
17\. White walkers capture Dany and Sansa, have their way with them.  
18\. Dany marry Euron to get the Iron fleet and he abuses her  
19\. Dany cucks Jon as punishment  
20\. Cersei's punishment from the Church is public use instead of a walk of shame.  
21\. Cat being captured by Vale Hill Tribes

OR suggest your own idea.


	3. A Dragon at Court

Thank you all for voting and leaving comments. 

The winner was Daenerys being raised at court as Joffery's plaything. 2nd place was Daenerys giving herself to the Northern Lords, 3rd was Daenerys taking Jon prisoner, possibly cucking him. All in all, it was a much tighter race than the previous chapter. 

Just a heads up that while this story started with the prompt of Dany being Joffrey's plaything, it pretty much turned into something else entirely, with barely any Joffrey in it all lol. But I write what I write. 

No beta, might be even rougher than usual, so forgive any glaring mistakes. 

Hope you enjoy. 

A Dragon at Court. 

The bells rang. From the Great Sept and all the smaller churches, to the guard towers at each of the seven gates and the Red Keep itself, they rang for the entire city to hear. 

Daenerys Targaryen was no longer a child, she was a woman grown, and she was to be wed. She had been born a princess and she would be a Queen. Joffrey Baratheon’s Queen. 

She would marry the son of the man who had killed her brother and usurped her family's throne. The man who had spared her life, brought her to court, and promised to wed her to his heir, effectively ending the potential threat of future rebellions by those who still held loyalty to the Targaryens. 

She was the last of the dragons, although that had not always been true. Her brother Viserys had also survived the rebellion, along with her niece and nephew, Rhaenys and Aegon. But the Stranger had come for them all, the pox had taken Viserys and the shivers Aegon, Rhaenys was gone as well. She had been too young to remember any of them. 

But she had been spared, both by the Gods and her King so she could fulfill her purpose. She would be Queen, but she knew what the men and women at court thought of her. Mad like her father, distrustful, sinful, whoreish. 

Daenerys closed her eyes as her chambers rang with the sound of bells. Countless maids and servants ran about around her, making preparations for the wedding feast. 

The bells rang, and by gods did she hate the sound of them. They rang for celebration, and for mourning, the birth of Kings, the death of Kings. They rang when the city was attacked, they rang for when the city wanted to surrender. They rang for every other damned reason but today they rang because she was to be wed. It was enough to drive a woman mad. 

The Mocking Bird. 

She shouldn’t be here, Daenerys thought to herself, it wasn’t proper and she could only imagine what would happen if people found out. But Peter Baelish had insisted. He had hidden her silver-blonde hair under a dirty brown cloak and had spirited her away through the tunnels and alleys of King’s Landing. 

“It’s a most important task,” he had told her in a whisper. The grin on his face had always made her uneasy, “a wedding gift to her Prince,” he had added. She had not declined, she rarely did. 

Another glass of wine was brought to them where they sat, where they watched. Daenerys knew it was improper to look, that being a highborn noble girl she should leave at once, demand to be escorted out of this place but she did no such thing. For the truth of it was that she was not the innocent maiden the court pretended her to be. 

But still, this was no place for a Princess and Lord Bealish would have known that, but she had thought Petyr Bealish knew a lot of things he apparently did not. 

The woman in front of her was servicing the man with her mouth. The lewd sounds of her slobbering over his cock filling the room. 

A brothel was no place for a Princess. 

“You were spared for him,” Littlefinger said. It was something she had been told often, that she had been spared by the King and the Gods so she may be given to Prince Joffrey. A gift to the new King. An offering of peace after so much war. Her maidenhead for peace, a worthy trade, but one she could no longer make. 

Petyr leaned in closer, invading her space. The wormy man had always made her feel uncomfortable, a feeling she knew she shared with most of the women in the Red Keep. 

“You wish to please the Prince do you not, sweet thing?” Petyr whispered, “we know how unpleasant the Prince can be.” he added softly. 

Daenerys looked down. Unpleasant did not adequately describe her future husband. He had inherited his mother's narcissism, his father's arrogance. He had been mean as a boy, and as he grew into a man that meanness had turned cruel. 

“Of course,” Daenerys replied, “it’s my duty.” 

She turned her attention back to the man and women before them. The girl, dark haired and eyed with olive skin and pouty lips had the man in her mouth. Head bobbing, her eyes closed soft moans that rang untrue muffled by the man's cock. 

The man himself was a wiry thing, too thin, his cock nearly as fat as his leg. He had his head thrown back on the pillowed lounger, eyes closed in bliss. 

Her duty. Daenerys watched as the girl wiggled her ass as she sucked on the cock, giving her audience a little show. This was her duty? To marry Joffrey, to bed him, to take his seed into her mouth and cunt and ass. To bear him a child to unify their bloodlines. That’s all she was destined for. She licked her lips and felt a warmness grow in the pit of her belly. 

That earned a smile from Petyr. He slipped closer to her and offered another glass of wine. The man before them groaned, and they both turned to watch as he came, spurting his seed all over the whore’s face. 

Daenerys drained her wine quickly, ignoring the burn in her throat and the heat in her face. 

“Is that what will be expected of me,” she said softly? Watching as the man's cock softened. 

“That and many other things,” Petyr replied. “But any whore can please a man,” Petyr said, his hand reaching her to pat her leg. Daenerys closed her eyes and shuddered as his hand lingered just above her knee. Men, be they whores, smallfolk, highborn, Knights or even Kings, they were all the same and wanted the same things. 

But she was no fool. She knew Petyr Bealish wanted even more. She knew what people said about him. He was the Master of Coin but she knew he held just as many secrets of the Master of Whispers. 

The whore wasn’t finished, she mounted the man, settling herself on his lap, kissing while grinding against him. 

Petyr’s hand slipped up her dress. “My Lord,” she protested, an act she already knew how to play well. Like much of her life she acted like she was supposed to. Pleased to dine with the King, to be at court, in lessons with Pycelle. She had learned quickie when to take offense. when to resist. 

“Shh,” Petyr whispered. “You will be wed soon. You must learn.”

She kept her eyes closed and tried to ignore the sound of the woman moaning, the sound of their flesh slapping against each other. Ignore the way Petry’s fingers trailed up her thigh, between her legs. 

She let out a gentle gasp as his fingers slipped across over her underclothes, over her slit. 

“Open your eyes. Watch them.”

She obeyed, watching as the woman fucked the man, his cock now hard, thick and heavy standing tall she impaled herself onto him over and over. The way her body clung to him, as if it was trying to make itself a part of her. That was to be her, the Prince's fuck toy. 

Petyr’s finger circled her clit earning another gasp from her. The woman moaned loudly, her body tensing and Daenerys followed suit. 

“I can teach you many things,” Petyr whispered in her ear, his own voice somewhat ragged. The pad of his finger put more pressure on the bundle of nerves between her legs, drawing teasing circles around her clit. 

“A beautiful young woman has a power few else do,” His fingers lifted slightly then pressed under her garments, skin making contact with skin. “You can make a man yours if you know how to use that power. You can be more than just the wife of a King, the mother of his children.’’ 

Daenerys closed her eyes, arching her hips to give him better access. Petyr Bealish was a fool, and it was apparent to her now how little he truly knew, but the man did know how to use his fingers. 

“I will teach you,” his teeth scraped over her ear, “to use your hands, your mouth, every inch of you, especially your cunt.” 

Petyr's fingers pushed harder, sliding under her garments pushing inside her body, Daenerys moaned, biting her lip, lifting her hips. Soft whimpers escaped her lips. 

“Very good,” Petyr said with a chuckle. ‘Less is often so much more,” he whispered, his lips nearly touching her neck and ear. “And your moans are music to a man’s ears.” 

His fingers curled inside her and he thrust more forcefully. 

Daenerys gasped, her hips lurched up. She reached out with both hands clamping over his. Holding him there as her body seized. Shaking violently. She grunted, trembling, “Gods,” she whispered, pulling up tight and awkward on her seat before she fell limp. 

Petyr’s hands slipped from her. She breathed heavily and then she turned to look at him, face flush, violet eyes half hooded, silver blond hair a mess. 

“Are you going to fuck me Lord Bealish?” she then glanced over to the two whores, “or perhaps you prefer to watch?”

She was surprised how taken back he looked. That a man whose fingers were still wet with her juices would be so surprised with her bluntness. But it was a fleeting look, soon replaced with realization. 

“There were rumors but I did not think,” Petyr said. 

Daenerys let her head fall back, exhausted, sated. Then this time she reached out to touch his leg. Leaning forward towards him. 

“I’ve been told all my life how beautiful I am Lord Baelish, but I have also been told how alone I am here in the castle my family built.” she looked down at the small bulge in his pants. “I have no friends at court, if there are even such a thing. Did you truly think you were the first man to proposition me? To force themselves upon me?” 

“You are to be Queen, assaulting you would--” 

Daenerys rolled her eyes interrupting him, “--And you think men care to think that far ahead? That that would stop them? Did it stop you My Lord?” She glanced at the two whores fucking. “What was your plan? Seduce me yourself? Maybe watch as your man whores fucked me? Then blackmailed me to do your bidding?”

Petyr chuckled, “Maybe I have nothing to teach you.” 

She stared at the man for a long minute trying to get the gauge of him. He inspired for more, she knew that much, and he wasn’t afraid of taking risks, and he seemingly had a blindspot when it came to beautiful young women. 

Daenerys Targaryen shifted forward and slid into Petyr Bealish’s lap. She felt him hard against her soaking wet mound. His hands went to her ass instinctively. She would let him use her, and she would return the favor.

The King. 

“You look like him,” King Robert's words were harsh and slurred, the voice of a man already deep into his cups. “Your shit brother, the man who started all this,” he clarified, waving his hand around, the ale in his cup slushing over the edges spilling to the floor and onto his lap. 

“Took everything from me.” he half muttered gazing at her emptily. 

Everything? Daenerys rolled her eyes, rich from a man who had slaughtered her family and usurped her throne and Kingdom. The Maesters could add being a hypocrite to the long list of character faults when they wrote King Robert’s history. 

He was staring at her again, a look she had become quite familiar with. He put his cup down. Private meetings with the King were always a mistake, especially when he had been drinking, but what choice did she have, he was the King. 

She had once overheard the King tell Ned Stark that he dreamt of killing her brother Rheager every night, that he relived his triumphant victory at the Trident. She wondered what the honorable Ned Stark would say if he knew what he did to her most nights.

Why settle for simple dreams of killing the last dragon when you could spend your nights fucking one. 

Robert stood and she flinched, her back going straight. He stepped forward, one hand heavy on the table, she looked at him. 

“Up, girl,” he demanded then reached for her, his large hand grabbing her shoulder. She stood, took a step back but he held still, his hand going from her shoulder to her neck, before burying itself in her silver hair. 

He was close enough she could smell the wine on his breath.

“Your Grace,” she whispered, as he leered down at her. She could already hear the increased pace of his breath, see the quick rise and fall of his chest. 

He grabbed her then, pulling her closer then picked her up like she was nothing. 

She screamed, and kicked, and threw her legs against him, not because she thought it would help or that it would matter. No one could hear them, and even if they could the King’s Guard would not help. Most of them would prefer to join in or watch rather than help. She fought because she knew he liked it, and he would be kinder to her in the morning for it. He would finish faster. 

The fine Dornish silks she wore, that barely covered her, were quickly torn from her body and left ruined by the bedside. He attacked her breasts first with his hands, pawing at them, squeezing then tweezing her nipples until they became hard, then he did the same with his mouth. His course beard scratched her skin as his tongue swirled around her nipple. 

Daenerys gasped, cried out and twisted helplessly under the much larger and stronger man. Pinned against the bed, she could feel his cock hard between them. His cock was built just like the rest of him, long, thick, girthy. It slapped down across her stomach and every muscle in her body tensed, as if it knew what was to come, that that thing would soon be buried deep inside her. She twisted away, pressed her hands against his chest. 

“Don’t,” she pleaded, playing into the game. She attacked, throwing her hands out at his face but even drunk he easily caught them and held them above her head. 

“Silver haired dragon cunt.” he growled as he pushed himself inside her, his belly pressed her into the mattress, his cock spread her cunt wide. 

“Fuck,” Daenerys cried out, pinched her eyes closed and bit her cheek. She stretched her body out under him, hands still pinned, nowhere to go. Her legs opened as his cock impaled her. Gods he was thick and hard. 

“That’s a good dragon,” Robert growled, the sound he made reverberating down her body, he held her hands up with one hand, the other went to her face then neck. “Good,” he moaned. He shifted the angle of his hips, then pushed forward. 

Daenerys tried to stifle the moan as he entered her, but his cock too large, too thick, it felt like she would tear apart. She swore she could feel every inch of him, every vein, every pulse of his heart with how tightly her body clung to him. She clenched her teeth, hissed out a sharp breath then cried out as he drove himself fully into her tight aching cunt. 

Robert was a warrior and he fucked like he fought, hard and rough, she doubted if there was anything tender or caring about him. His first full thrust had her seeing stars, had her cunt clenching around him. The second had her moaning loudly into his chest, her toes curling, her back arching. The third nearly made her cum, fast and hard, her body thoroughly enjoying being treated rough and ragged. Dragons were strong, they could take, and how did she love taking it. 

Daenerys whimpered then moaned as the King fucked her, their bodies coming together with a sickening thud. She cried out as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against her ass as she was filled completely. Then he pulled back and her body resisted, too thick, too hard, her cunt gripped his cock like a vise. squeezing and convulsing around him. 

“Mmnhh,” the moan that escaped Daenerys lips was breathy and desperate. Roberts's cock pulled nearly free, her body clinging to his head before he drove into her. 

“Gods!” she cried out, her hand clawing at his back. The motion enough to make her see white, pain and pleasure and everything else hit her, shocking her in a breathless soundless scream. Again he pulled back, then drove into her. He grunted and groaned as he took her. Her body lurched forward, then pressed into the bedding. Her eyes rolled back, toes curled as she was taken. 

“No wonder you Dragon fucks always fucked each other,” Robert said, moving faster, “nothing better than a Targaryen cunt.” 

“Warm,” he groaned fucking faster, “wet.” 

Daenerys cried out, “Stop,” she was going to cum, she could feel the tightness, the warmness growing quickly out of control in the base of her spine, in the pit of her belly. She twisted, but it was no help. The King was too large, too strong, too good at fucking her. 

His hand closed around her neck and that was all it took. Her body spasmed and she cried out, a moan, a prayer, gibberish, she didn’t know what sounds escaped her lips only that they must have sounded whorish and wanton. 

She came in waves, spasming and cumming all over her rapist's cock. She held on, trembling mumbling moans of pleasure as Robert slowed his thrusts watching as his little dragon broke upon his dick. 

When she finally opened her eyes, barely able to breathe, covered in sweat, her cunt aching and dripping with her own arousal she found him staring at her, almost in awe. He loved that more than anything, making her cum, making her squirm. 

He had told her once that he hoped her brother Rhaegar could see her now from the seven hells, that he would be forced to watch his sister lose herself on the cock of the man who killed him. A petty and cruel hope for a petty and cruel man. But it did not matter. 

She lay there for a moment, her breathing heavy, her body still stretched by his member.  
Her cunt still convulsed, her body still trembled in the aftershocks of her climax. She looked down between their bodies, past the King’s gut to where the thick shaft of his cock entered her. It was an obscene sight, his cock wet with her arousal, her cum, half inside her her much smaller frame, holding her, pinning her to the bed, controlling her-- 

No, he didn’t control her. She sighed then lifted her hips slightly making Robert moan. She pushed up then and the larger man did not resist. Letting himself roll over until she was on top, mounting him. 

And then she moved, rolling her hips, riding his cock. His hands went to her hips, then her tits. She rode the man that had killed her brother, destroyed her family. She rode him like a dragon, bouncing on his cock, moaning his name until he cried out her own and spilled himself into her womb. 

And then he slept, passed unconscious from the booze, from her body, it hardly mattered. She slipped from him, his cock flopping heavily against his thigh as it pulled from her body. His cum leaked from her gaping cunt, streaming down her thigh. 

She watched him for a moment, his belly rising and falling with deep heavy breaths. She could end him there, right then, there must have been a dagger, a knife, something in his chambers. Even a pillow could suffice. She watched as the man who had ruined her family, destroyed her legacy, and turned her into a whore for half the men at the Red Keep slept. 

Robert Baratheon might have been the most powerful person in all the world, but as he lay before her he was nothing. She could end him, snuff out his legacy in an instant, she held the power. 

But it was not the time. She stood dressed as best she could with what remained of her dressed and slipped from his chambers as she did almost every night. 

The Grandmaester. 

Grandmaester Pycelle. Daenerys wondered if the rest of the court saw him as the decrepit aged Measter, or for what he truly was. She wondered if they would even care. 

She gave a slight grunt as he nudged her legs further apart with his knee. An impudent huff came from the much older man as if he had better things to be doing with his time. 

Daenerys spread her legs for him, leaning forward ever so slightly. As the future wife of the prince, and future Queen her health was a great concern to many people. These examinations were for her own good, for her health was the health of the kingdom, or at least that’s what the Maester told everyone. 

His hands drifted up her bare thighs, over her hips and waist and across her ribcage. 

The old Maester hummed to himself as if noting something. Daenerys turned her head slightly. 

“Head affront please Princess,” he asked, his voice rough.

She turned back to the wall and closed her eyes. His hands returned to her back, long fingers spreading out over her spine. 

“Any discomfort, pain, irritation?” he asked. 

She shook her head, “no.” No more than usual, she supposed. The moontea she was given after her visits with the King always left her feeling miserable and cramping, but that was to be expected, and after so many visits she had almost grown used to them, as she had grown to use too much of her life. 

“Good, good,” he replied, his hands coming around her black to her front, old hands cupping her young perky breasts. She shuddered at the sensation of his hands cupping her, gently squeezing then this thumb and finger pinching her nipples until they stood hard. 

“Responsive,” he muttered. 

Daenerys grit her teeth as the man fondled her. 

“Healthy,” he stepped closer to her until she could feel the heat of his body and smelt the scent of medicines and herbs. 

His hands went lower, skimming over her stomach, he pushed on it slightly, forcing her body back and into his. She could feel the scratch of his wool cloak, the cold steel of his Maester chain and the hard cock underneath it all. 

Then his hands went lower, barely touching her labia, slipping around between her legs. He began to gently rub her, tease her, he found her clit and pressed down on it. 

“Mmh,” Daenerys moaned, finding it impossible to ignore the sensation. “What does this test test for Grandmaester?” she asked in a tense whisper. 

She thought she heard him chuckle, his hands lingering over her most sensitive spot. He leaned in closer to her until she felt the cold steel of his maester chain pressed heavy against her bareback making goosebumps sprout up across her flesh. 

“You are to bear the Prince's children.” He said, hoarsely. She could feel his cock nestled between the cheeks of her ass. His fingers slipped between her legs again, flicking her clit, messaging her cunt. “It’s important to know if you’ll be suitable for the Prince." 

A single finger pressed inside her, curling inside her cunt. Daenerys shuddered, resisting the urge to clench her thighs around his fingers. Her legs trembled slightly. 

“Healthy, sensitive, responsive.” Pycelle muttered, his finger started to thrust inside her, fucking her. She reached one hand against the cold stone wall to brace herself, Faster his fingers moved, she moaned, and another finger was added. 

One hand left her cunt, reaching up to grab her breast twisting her nipple. 

Daenerys cried out, moaning, as the old man quickly brought her closer to climax.

“So easy to please,” Pycelle whispered, “you know they speak of you, men and women behind your back, say how much of a whore you are.” Another finger slipped down her slit then curled and entered her. 

Daenerys bit her tongue and found herself leaning back against him as he worked her fingers in and out of her dripping cunt. 

“They say they can hear your moans all over the Red Keep as men fuck you. That is no way for people to think of their future Queen, don’t you think Princess?”

She nodded quickly, “yes, yes,” she purred, her body tensing clenching, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to get off on this old perverted man’s fingers. 

Instead, he pulled away, leaving her trembling, gasping, and needing more. “Then you must learn to be quiet and to control your lesser needs.”

Daenerys gasped for breath, not sure if she hated the old man for his continual molestation or the fact he enjoyed teasing her so much. 

“Of course Grand Maester,” she said in a huff, “whatever you say. Is the examination finished?” 

“No, turn around.” 

She did as she was told

“Open.” 

She opened her mouth and he pressed her fingers inside. She could taste herself on him as he slid his fingers over her tongue and teeth and the inside of her cheek. 

He muttered to himself, “lower,” he said, pushing down on her. “Lower,” he repeated when she did not move enough. She closed her eyes, sealing her lips around his fingers then dropped to her knees. There was no need to pretend this was anything other than it was. 

“Good,” he said again, and she heard the rustle of wool, then the warm length of him pressed against her face, he rested his cock there, over her cheek and eye, as she suckled on his finger. 

“What is this test for?” she dared to ask when he pulled his fingers free. 

He looked down at her, his face half concealed by the cock covering her eye, old and smug he had the audacity to grin. 

“A test of discretion,” he answered, he gripped his cock, “as future Queen you will be privy to information, what better way to know you can be trusted, hmm?” his cock pressed against her swollen lips, then harder still forcing her lips to part until the head of his cock pressed against her teeth. 

She stared at him for a moment as she became accustomed to the taste of him, bright violet eyes staring up a the ancient man and his stupid arragoant grin. The musty sweaty taste of his cock filled her senses before she pursed her lips and teeth, and let him slip himself inside her wet and warm mouth. 

Discretion, she thought, her eyes narrowing. She could keep secrets, like how the old decrepit Maester was more than lively when it came to fucking young women. And that same Grandmaester better served the Lannisters, rather than the King he was pledged to. 

She closed her eyes, and went to work, bathing his cock with her tongue, bobbing her head up and down over his shaft as she had done a dozen times before, in a dozen different examinations. She let him slip deeper, enough to make her gag, then pulled back, drool and spit trailing from her pouty lips. His hands tangled into her silver-blonde hair leaving it a tangled mess. She leaned back down, taking him back deep into her mouth, her tongue going to work. 

They thought so little of her, no more than a hole to fuck. But you would be surprised how much you could learn from a man when their only concern was to get your lips around their cock. She knew a great amount about a lot of things. 

Her hand clenched around the base of his cock, her tongue swirled around his head, she could taste his cum ooze from his tip. He was not nearly as feeble as he looked but he was still an old man and her mouth was made for this. She gave him one final look, and the sight of her, so young and beautiful. Her eyes wide and bright and full anger and hate. Those pouty swollen lips, so soft and warm sealed around his cock was too much for him. 

Pycelle came with an undignified moan, catching her by surprise spurting his cum all over the back of her throat, she swallowed quickly, then popped him from her mouth, flinching as a final splash of cum caught her across the cheek. 

Discretion she thought as she swallowed the rest of his seed and wiped her face clean. That was something she knew well about.

The Kings Guard. 

“That’s it, that's it.” Trant moaned, his hands reaching around and mauling Daenerys’ tits as he pulled her body back and into him. She arched her back, almost painfully so. Sweat dripped down her neck, over her breasts and she grunted with every hard thrust. 

The oil on his cock barely made a difference, pain and pleasure shot up her arched spine as he seated himself into her ass. She made a low guttural moan as his fingers squeezed at her breasts, then one hand went between her legs. He shifted and she cried out. He was so thick and her ass was too tight. Why did all the most despicable men have the longest and thickest cocks? 

His fingers found her clit and she gasped, then moaned whorishly as her body jerked back in shock forcing his cock even deeper into her ass. 

“That’s it Princess,” he pulled back, slightly easing himself out. Her ass clung to him, the tight ring of muscles squeezing his shaft refusing to let go. She reached forward then back, for anything to hold onto, finding nothing. 

He drove into her hard, her cunt throbbing and spreading for him, clenching down, they’re bodies slapping together. She moaned and shuddered. “Good whore,” he muttered, and she cried out again as he began moving in quick fast movements, his hips slapping against her ass, making her cheeks bounce, her tits sway. She moaned loudly, mouth agape, eyes wide as she was fucked hard and rough up the ass by the man meant to protect her. 

“Not so loud, you do not want people to think I snuck a whore into your chambers do you?” Trant nearly laughed, his hand leaving her cunt to cover her mouth. What would it matter, they were alone in her own chambers, the only man guarding her was now fucking her. No one would hear. 

Faster he moved, his cock bouncing in and out of her, reducing her to a shaking mess of moans and bouncing tits and ass. She pressed against him, held up only by his hands and cock impaled into her, her eyes rolled back, as she felt her pleasure build as she was roughly taken by this despicable man. 

There was a loud knock on the door and they both froze. And for a moment, if it was even possible she swore she could feel the fear nearly radiate from Meryn Trant's cock. 

Boros Blount entered the room and Trant relaxed. “You enjoying yourself Princess,” he chuckled, his jowls bouncing. She managed to shoot the overweight, balding knight a glare before Trant began to move again making her pinch her eyes closed and hiss a sharp breath between clenched teeth. 

How many this time? she thought as she heard the telltale sound of plate shifting as Blount moved closer. The familiar shuffle of his trousers coming undone. Then his hand was on her neck, rough calloused fingers, almost tender, almost caring, before they tightened and pulled her forward, face down. 

“You moan any louder and the whole Red Keep will hear. Would you like that princess? For everyone to know how much you enjoy a cock in your ass?” 

Daenerys opened her eyes, looking up at the disgusting older man, her breathing still heavy, her body lurching forward with every thrust from the man behind her. “Wouldn't anyone walkin' in on us would ya’ now?” His thumb traced her swollen bottom lip, “We must find a way to keep you quiet.” 

Resigned to her fate, Daenerys opened her mouth, extended her tongue and waited for his cock. The musty taste of sweat and piss filled her scenes as he placed the head of his cock on her outstretched tongue. Her lips closed around him, and he thrust forward. 

She closed her eyes, and let the two men use her, fucking her from both ends, she whimpered and squealed like a hog on a spit as they degraded her body. The future wife of the Prince, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, used like a common whore. 

Daenerys cried out, moaning against the cock as they found their rhythm, with every thrust that drove into her bowels, stretching her ass, another took her throat making her gag. Drool spit from her stuffed mouth and sprang tears from her violet eyes.

But she took it as she always did, she let them use her, let her body relax and get used to the sensations, let them bring her closer and closer to her own release knowing one day she would make them pay. She sucked on Blouts cock, gagging as she did so. His hand twisted in her hair, messing the elaborate braid her handmaidens had crafted hours ago. She heard him grunt, then throb. She sealed her lips tight. Moaned and felt her mouth fill with his bitter seed. 

The disgust of it sent her over the edge, her cunt quivered, legs shaked, her eyes rolled back and her ass clenched down on Trant's cock. 

“Gods,” he groaned, fingers digging into her hips and ass. He thrust forward and followed her release with his own. Blount's cock fell free, slapped against her face and chin covering it in spit and cum.

With one final hard thrust, Trant buried himself as deep as he could into her ass, lurching her forward, shoving her face into Blounts sweaty belly, her body still quivering as she held on as Trant emptied himself into her ass. 

She gasped, moaned as he finally pulled free of her. The last Targaryen fell to her hands and knees, her body too weak and tired to hold herself up. Drool and cum covered her face, Trant’s seed oozed from her swollen cunt. 

And then she heard the door open once again. She did not bother to look up. More men in armor, the rest of the Kings Guard, ready to take their turn. 

The Husband. 

Daenerys gasped, leaned forward trying to take the pressure off her neck, the collar and chains that held her going tight restricting her breathing. 

“Again,” Joffrey ordered. She heard the rod cut through the air before she felt it, a stinging lash against her behind. She flexed her ass, screamed then gasped as the stinging pain shot down to her toes. 

“That’s it wife,” Joffery cooed, patting her head appreciatively. They had been wed hours before. They had feasted with the King and Queen and with half the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms. They danced and laughed and drank. And then they had been bedded, those same Lords stripped of her clothes, fondled and grabbed at what they could as they escorted them to their chambers.

But their chambers had not been unoccupied when they had finally arrived. A woman waited for them there, red-haired and half-naked. She wore a fake mask of confidence, unease around the prince no doubt. The woman had helped tie her up, strap her down as the Prince watched. 

She opened her mouth, tongue lolling out, and felt him press his cock onto it, she cradled it softly before leaning forward and swallowing him. 

Another lash came down and she cried out, her moan muffled by the heir to the thrones member in her mouth. It was lighter this time, practically pleasant compared to the previous strikes. 

She began to suck, working her tongue up and down his shaft. 

“Again,” Joffrey said, his voice wavering. The way she sucked on him leaving him struggling to speak. The lash came again and so did her moans. 

“Do it,” Joffery commanded. Daenerys tensed, the muscles in her back and ass and thighs tightening in anticipation of another blow but instead came a gentle touch, tender on her sore flesh. Then a kiss, and then a tongue, licking at her most private parts. She shuddered and groaned. 

Joffrey pulled away from her mouth and she could feel him walk around to the other side of the bed where she was tied. She was flipped onto her back. She stared up at her husband, the prince, future King, with his cock bobbing at his waist. He grabbed her thighs, pulling them apart, then entered her, his face twisted, and then he drove fast and hard into her achingly wet cunt. 

He fucked nothing like the King, his strokes uneasy, weak. His hands dug into her hips as he stopped, holding still, trying to delay his release. Then he pulled free of her, leaving her gasping and shuddering. His cock still hard and unspent. 

He motioned to the red headed whore and she did not hesitant, slipping between her legs, her tongue found her clit almost immediately. Two of her fingers pushing inside her. 

Daenerys outrighted mewed at the sensation, the woman’s fingers almost tenderly entering her, her tongue pressing the perfect amount of pressure between her legs. Her eyes rolled back, and a shudder ran up her spine. 

She had never been with a woman before, only men. Men who cared little for her own pleasure, that would take her hard and rough and quickly and leave her a quivering well fucked mess. But this was different; this woman was almost tender, soft, and knew exactly what to do, knew exactly where to touch and lick. 

Another tremor ran through her body making her whimper, her hips arched off the bed as best as she could. “Please,” she begged and then almost as quickly as the woman had begun touching her she was gone. 

Daenerys opened her eyes, just in time to see Joffery pull the woman's head back by her hair, retaking his spot between her legs. His hands went to her hips, digging painfully into the skin there and then he plunged himself back into her. Hard, and rough and quickly. 

He moaned and she screamed. The familiar sensation of being fucked hard filling her. He pulled back and rammed into her again, then again, and then she came, her body inflamed, she shook then sobbed and felt the Prince continue to thrust into her. Again and again and then he stilled around her trembling body, his cock throbbing inside her. 

They were bedded, and wed. 

He fell forward, his face on her heaving breasts and they both lay there for a moment. And then he stood, barely giving her a second glance and left the room. 

A few moments later Trant entered the room and let his eyes linger on her prone tied-up body. He came to her, his hands trailing up the sweat-soaked thigh, up to her stomach and chest. He rolled her over and she sighed and closed her eyes. 

But he did not take her then and there, instead, he undid the ropes around her hands and arms.

“The King wishes to see you.” he said. 

She looked at him, “and that is all?” she asked, letting her own gaze drift up and down. He stiffened slightly. After being in his company for all these years Daenerys knew the man well enough, he was unsure, afraid. 

For those years she was thought little off, the last Dragon, a stupid child of little meaning. Only spared death to be used as a political pawn. And when she grew and became a woman she was seen as a pleasurable distraction, a thing to be fucked, to be enjoyed, and used. But still a thing. 

It was easy to listen and learn when people thought so little. Trant was a coward that preyed on those he thought weaker than him, the weaker the better. Now that she was married to the Prince, she no longer seemed so weak. 

She paid little mind to his stares as she dressed, she could feel the Prince's seed dripping from her but she paid little mind to that either. She would be filled with the King's seed soon enough, she wondered whose would take root first. 

She ignored the looks she was given as she was escorted back through the feast on her way to the King's chambers. She knew all the men here, she had grown close to most of the court in one way or another.

She knew that Littlefinger was robbing the throne blind, that Pycelle counseled the Lannisters and not the Throne he was sworn to. She knew a dozen damning details about half the damned Lords in all the Seven Kingdoms. She knew of the Kings Guard, the men sworn to protect the King but cared more about the coin in their pockets and the cock in the pants. She knew they enjoyed taking her, each in their own perverse way. 

But maybe the most important thing she knew was about the one who didn’t. Maybe the one man in all of the Red Keep who hadn’t tried to slip his cock into her. Hadn’t held her down and muttered warnings as he fucked her roughly. Hadn’t made her tremble and cum and scream their name. She did not know what his cock tasted of, or the sounds he made when he came. She did not know if he liked to hold down the women he fucked, choke them and beat them and make them scream. Of if he was kind and tender. She knew so very little of Jaime Lannister, but she did know some things. She knew how he looked at the Queen, and that was worth so much more. 

She knew how the court saw her, she knew how men would treat her, but she would allow it, she would play along because soon this farce would be over and she would be Queen. 

Hope you enjoyed it. 

Next vote. I've cut down and combined some prompts, dropped some of the less popular ones. Dropped ones that I know I’ll probably never write. Sorry to anyone whose prompts didn't survive the cut or got merged. leave a comment/review and vote for as many as you would like. 

1\. More Daenerys as a sex slave in Essos.  
2\. Dany gangbanged by the Dothraki Blood Riders.  
3\. Jon fails to kill Daanerys and he takes him as her prisoner.  
4\. Dany attempts to win the Northern Lords favour by fucking them.  
5\. Back to the Ciri story  
6\. Sansa is forced into another marriage to keep power in the North (post season 8)  
7\. Dany agrees to marry Euron to get the Iron Fleet and he abuses her.  
8\. Cersei’s walk of shame includes public use.  
9\. Arya has to whore herself out to survive in Braavos  
10\. Sansa is taken to Lys instead of the Vale where she becomes a bed slave.  
11\. Jon takes Dany for his when he arrives on Dragonstone.  
12\. Sons of the Harpy take Daenerys captive. 

Or submit your own ideas. Or feel free to add more details to the prompts already here.


	4. Northern Politics

The winner of this round was Daenerys/Northern Lords. Second place was a pretty close race between multiple options (Dany taking Jon prisoner, Dany/Dothraki horde, Arya whoring herself in Braavos, and Sansa in Lys)

Thanks again for leaving comments and voting.  
This one was a bitch to self edit, kept finding more and more mistakes so please forgive any that did manage to slip by. I'm sure there's plenty left. 

Sansa Stark had outlasted Joffrey Baratheon. She had survived Cersei Lannister. She had defeated Ramsey Bolton on the battlefield and avenged her family and the North. She had outsmarted Littlefinger, brought him to his knees and had him begging for his life.

She was Sansa Stark of Winterfell. She was Sansa Stark of the North. She would not bow to some foreign Targaryen whore who called herself Queen. The North belonged to her, it was hers by right. She had earned it, she had suffered for it, she had won it back, and she would not give it up.

She did not hide the disdain from her face as she watched Daenerys speak with Jon and the other Lords. She could not deny the Dragon Queen was beautiful, striking even, her skin pale and flawless with hair nearly as white as a winter's snow and eyes that shined with the hint of violet. She was unique, and gorgeous, and it made Sansa hate her all that much more. 

The way every man in Winterfell's great hall looked at her did not go unnoticed. The Northern Lords, young and old, couldn't tear their eyes away. Each of them no doubt thinking of ways they could bed her. Not only for the power that would come with being with a Queen's consort but for the pure lust of it.

Even her half-brother Jon seemed infatuated with her. Foolish men, unable to think of anything but their cocks. But Sansa was no man and she was no fool and she did not miss how the dragon Queen looked at her half-brother either.

She had heard the rumors. That the Dragon Queen had seduced a Khal before killing him and taking his Khalasar. That she had seduced a mercenary leader to bind his army to her. Then a Meereenese noble to take control of Slaver's Bay. And now it seemed she had seduced her dimwitted half brother to steal the North away from her.

It seemed everywhere Daenerys Targaryen went men gave her the world for a chance to get between her legs. And it seemed like Daenerys Targaryen was more than willing to open her legs for them. 

Sansa Stark watched as the noblemen drank and feasted and leered at the pretty Queen and Sansa Stark smiled, she knew exactly how to get her kingdom back. She would show the North and her half-brother exactly who the Dragon Queen was.

\---

It did not take Daenerys long to realize Jon had not lied about his home and its people. The North was a distant and unwelcoming place. It was cold, both the freezing winds that howled outside the castle walls and the icy response from the men and women inside them.

The men and women of the North were a hard and bitter bunch. They held no love for foreigners, even those invited by their King to help save their lives.

But it was nothing she was not used to. The Dothraki did not fall to their feet when they had met her. Nor had the city of Qarth, the people of Slaver's Bay, or anyone really. She had to earn their respect and love and she would do the same again here.

Lord Manderly was an overweight man, one of the richest in the north. Lord Cerwyn young, inexperienced, taking the place of his dead father. Yohn Royce wasn't even a Northerner, instead a man of the Vale, but he shared the cold demeanor of his location. There were other Lords, Blackwood, Cassel, Holt and Hornwood to name a few, but most of the Northern Houses had been decimated by years of war and strife.

There was little left. Daenerys could not help but remember what Jon had told her, the best of the North had died with his brother Robb at the Red Wedding. What was left were scared men and children.

"I'm sure they will warm to you soon, Your Grace," Missandei said. Daenerys returned a soft smile and nodded back at her friend.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Sansa's Stark voice did not carry far, not enough for the rest of the hall to hear her, but clear enough for Daenerys ears. She looked over at the tall redhead. She carried herself stiff and smug, with a sense of confidence Daenerys was unsure was earned. 

"Did my brother tell you how we went to each of them to take back Winterfell?" Sansa asked, before taking a sip of her wine.

Daenerys looked over the crowd and the burly Northerners. "They all turned you away."

"That they did. So much for the North Remembers," Sansa said.

"But they follow your brother now."

Sansa gave her a long look, "Thanks to my brother they follow you now Your Grace." Sansa took another drink, "I've learned to not put much trust in men, they always seem to disappoint. They seem to only care about two things, the coin in their pocket and--"

Daenerys brows rose and she turned to look over the crowd of men. Sansa Stark did not need to finish her thought, she knew oh too well. She had caught more than one of Lords leering. The Northern Lady was not incorrect.

Daenerys smiled, "Men," she replied to Sansa.

"Men," Sansa replied back and raised her glass.

Sansa Stark might have been smug, arrogant, and a terrible host, but maybe she was no fool. Maybe she had given her exactly what she needed to win over the Northern Lords.

\---

Wyman Manderly prodded the fire. One log tumbled over another sending up embers and warmth into the room.

Daenerys welcomed the heat and loosened her coat's bindings before pulling it off completely. She draped the thick coat over one of the chairs in the Northern Lords chambers.

She did not miss the attentive glance back at her, the lingering gaze. The dress she wore was modest by Essoi standards, simple soft silks that clung to her curves, but she might as well have been half naked by Northern standards. 

"I fear I am not yet used to this cold." So offered, softly, "Any warmth is a welcomed one."

"Hmm," Manderly hummed and fiddled with the fire a little more before letting it be. The man was no doubt wondering why the Queen had requested a private meeting in his chambers of all places.

"We share that in common. White Harbor is not nearly as chilled as Winterfell. Shame the Boltons ruined this castle. I was told that the hot springs once kept every room in the keep as balmy as a Dornish day." Manderly said before glancing back over to her. "But I suppose you did not wish to speak to me about the temperature Your Grace."

"I do not know what you have heard of me My Lord, but I want you to know that I am not your enemy."

Manderly huffed and looked down at that much smaller, beautiful woman. "I've heard plenty."

"The North thrived under the Iron Throne and it shall thrive again under me." Daenerys added, "I do not intend to take anything from you, only give."

"And what might you give?"

Daenerys smiled, "Wealth? Power? Influence?" She stared at the older man for a moment, "what else does a man want?"

Manderly said nothing, but couldn't help but let his gaze drift down over her body. 

Daenerys let him look without a word, let his eyes follow the curve of her breast, down her flat stomach, and between her legs.

This was the reality of the world she lived in, men saw her for only two things, her body and her dragons. There was power in a woman's body. Every night all over the world men would spend all their hard-earned coin in brothels. Men had earned fortunes selling sex. Dynasties had been built off the back of bed slaves.

She had learned that men would kill to get between her legs, to taste her, to fuck her, and they had. They would betray their friends, kill her enemies. They would give her kingdoms just for the chance of sinking their cocks into her tight wet cunt.

She would be a fool not to let them. Her brother once told her he would let an entire Dothraki horde and their horses have their way with her if it got him what he wanted. At the time she had been horrified at the thought. Now, after all she had been through, she welcomed the idea. It was a small price to pay for power.

So she would let this Northern Lord use her as he saw fit tonight, and she would use him for the rest of his life.

"Follow your King. When the time comes bend the knee and you will see and you and your family prosper like never before." Daenerys took a step forward, "bend the knee in front of your men, and I shall return the favor here, now, to show you how much I value you."

Daenerys fell to one knee in front of the overweight man, then another. She looked up, violet eyes shining, her lips parted, her tongue peeked out.

She reached forward pulling at the Northerner's belt. She made quick work of the leather strap. Manderly's hands moved, but he hesitated and mumbled something to himself, undoubtedly in shock by the events occurring.

Daenerys could see the outline of his cock through his pants, his cock coming to life before her eyes. She traced her hand over him, a pleased smile crossing her face as the man jerked in response. She reached into his trousers, her fingers wrapping around the shaft of his member. He was already half-hard and throbbing, thick and warm.

She pulled him free, stroked him once, watching the foreskin pull back against his head. Then she licked her lips, glanced up at the Northern Lord before leaning forward and taking him inside her wet, warm, and waiting mouth.

"Gods," Manderly groaned as her lips sealed around him. He tasted sweat and piss, but Daenerys ignored it. She slid her tongue up and around his cock, she pressed the head of him into the side of her mouth making her cheek bulge.

She looked up at him, his eyes half in disbelief as he stared down. His cock came free of her mouth with a pop, salvia trailing from her swollen lips to his swollen cock.

Manderly swallowed hard, the Queen was sucking him off. He felt himself twitch and did all he could not spend himself right there and then all over her pretty face.

"I take care of those who follow me My Lord." Daenerys said then moved forward. She pressed her lips against his shaft, she ran her hand down the length of him, one stroke than another. Then she followed her fingers with her mouth, licking and sucking on his length, moaning against his flesh before she pulled back and teased the tip of him with her lips and tongue. She felt him shudder then rock forward and she gave the man mercy, letting him slip back between her lips and down her throat.

She gagged slightly as she took his full length him inside her, his shaft gliding across her tongue until the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. She convulsed, the muscles in her throat tightening against intrusion. But she pushed forward, her eyes watering. She was rewarded with a bellowing moan from the older Northerner.

Each time she gagged she felt a twinge between her legs, her cunt moistening. She moaned again, stroked his cock and let her free hand slip down between her legs.

She was soaking wet, nearly dripping. Maybe she was the whore Queen some of her enemies called her she thought with a grin, why else would she get off on an old man face fucking her.

Her fingers teased herself, dipping inside her, she could feel her cunt convulse around her fingers in time with the man fucking her mouth. She moaned again, eyes rolling back as she fingered her clit. Teasing out her own pleasure in time with Manderlys.

She was so close, she was so easy.

"Gods, Gods!" he cried out. And then Manderlys hands were in her hair, holding her there. He jerked forward and Daenerys wretched as he buried himself completely down her throat. His balls rested against her cheek, her nose and face buried in his wiry pubic hair.

He came with a roar. Daenerys felt him throb, swell, then explode. She felt the warmth of his seed coat her throat. She gagged again but held firm. Letting him spill his seed into her belly. At the same time she pressed hard against her clit, wrenching a climax from herself. She moaned, gagged, and sputtered, her body shaking and convulsing around her fingers in her cunt and her the cock in her throat.

He ground against her face almost painfully so. She couldn't breathe, her head buzzed. She felt her eyes go red and wet. Her fingers dug into his thighs, her stomach turned and finally, he let go.

She fell back onto her ass and heaved a gasp, coughing up spit and cum across her chin.

"By Gods, old and new," Manderly said, his breathing heavy, his eyes distant, his quickly softening cock flopping against his leg. Spit and cum still hung from it. He stiffened when he saw her the realization of what he had just done.

"Your Grace," he offered, unsure.

But Daenerys simply smiled, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and licked her lips. She stood on uneasy legs and looked up at him.

"So much passion Lord Manderly," she said smiling sweetly, "I hope to see that in the battlefield in the coming days, and in the great hall after."

Manderly nodded to her, still out of breath and dumbfounded at what had just happened.

\--- 

Daenerys chewed on her bottom lip as she walked aside Yohn Royce. It was near dusk, the setting sun gleamed off the multiple pieces of plate armor that lay before them. It was beautiful, almost enough to make the Winterfell's mudcaked, grey and brown courtyard pleasing to look at. 

She tried to catch Royce's eye, she licked her lips, held her back straight, pushed her chest out. She walked a little too close to the Vale Lord, swayed her hips a little more than necessary. Smiled a little too much and had already attempted multiple times to get him alone.

But Royce seemed overly interested in the condition of his men's armor, the wellbeing of their horses, and little in her. She glanced at the stables and wondered. Could she get away with a quick fuck there, beside the horses? The hay and horses might muffle her moans, but it was more than likely a stableboy would wander in on them and she did not need that.

Then she considered at the armory, it looked empty, but for how long? The heat would do her favors, give her an excuse to lose the thick coat she had been forced to wear. A little sweat to give her an appealing glow, She doubted Royce could resist. She licked her lips and undid the first button on her long winter coat.

"I pledged myself to the King in the North Your Grace, and when he pledged himself to you I did as well. I am a man of my word, my sword is yours."

"Oh," Daenerys stated, slightly taken aback, "I had been told tales of the honor of the men of the Vale--" she paused.

Royce smiled, "I understand, most tales are just that, tales. But the men of Vale know the value of honor and chivalry, we honor our words and follow our leaders."

Daenerys gave one glance back to the forges, almost disappointed. "You're loyalty will be rewarded, My Lord."

\--- 

Cley Cerwyn was younger than the rest of the Northern Lords, spirited, and not but a bit angry. It had been no trouble to get the young man alone, even less to get him interested, he had been leering at her since she had first arrived at Winterfell.

Daenerys gasped as her bareback smashed against the stone wall. That gasp continued into a moan as Cerywn's mouth descended down upon her neck. His hand grabbed her tit, squeezing and pawing and she mewed in response.

"This is what you want?" he growled thrusting up into her. Her dress was in the way, his trousers still on, but she could feel him hard beneath her.

"You know what I want," she gasped feeling his teeth scrap across her collarbone. His hand lifted and squeezed her breasts, bringing it teasingly close to his mouth.

"My loyalty." he said as he struggled to free himself. "for your cunt?"

"I believe I worded it--" Daenerys froze as he freed himself, tore her dress out of his way, pressed him against her opening and thrust up and into her, spreading her cunt quick and hard. She moaned as he let her sink down onto him until he was fully seated inside her tightness.

"Deal," he grunted as he lifted her up, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass then pulled her down driving himself into her.  
They’re bodies slapped together almost painfully so. Daenerys clenched around him, pulled him tight, pressing the hard nipples of her breast against his chest. 

"Ahh," Daenerys gasped, her legs going tight around his waist. The stone wall bit into her back but she could not bring herself to care.

Cerwyn thrust himself up, lifting her in the process, driving his cock in and out of her. She gasped and moaned, burying her head into the crook of her neck, her back rubbed raw, her cunt ached and throbbed. She could feel herself dripping all over his cock as he took her, as he fucked her.

"Fuck!" she cried out, her fingers clawing into his back as he moved, Steady hard thrusts, driving in and out of her soaking wet cunt. The sound of them fuckinng filled the room, the slick, wet sound of their bodies coming together mixed with Daenerys soft moans and whimpers. 

"Harder," she demanded, and the young Lord obeyed pressing into her, his hands left her hips, went to her throat. She moaned loudly, as he fucked her pistoning in and out of her.

So close, she was so close, she let out a needy whine but felt the man begin to falter. Excitement and youth could only take one so far and the man fucking her was beginning to reach his limit.

Without warning he pulled her away from the wall, holding her tight he walked the few steps to his bed throwing them both down onto it.

Daenerys moaned as he landed on top of her. Their sweat-slicked bodies grinding together, never missing a beat he slid deep inside her cunt then he grabbed one leg, lifted it up and drove into her. Her eyes rolled back, her toes curled as he resumed fucking, pummeling her body into the feather mattress. The sensation of being taken so hard nearly overwhelmed her. 

"Give it to me," she moaned, "Give me everything."

Cerwyn roared, grabbing onto her hips as he roughly drove into her. She was so incredibly tight and warm and wet. She cried out as she came sobbing a Valryian prayer. Her vision went near white as her body exploded, her muscles tightened. Her cunt clenched down on Cerwyn's cock, her hips thrust up sealing their bodies together as she shuddered and moaned..

Unable to hold back any longer the young man quickly followed, burying himself as deeply as he could in the Targaryen cunt, he thrust into her, driving his cock into her until his balls pressed against her. He moaned as she clamped down around him, squeezing and milking his member and then came with a groan spilling himself inside the cock hungry Queen. Utterly spent he fell onto her chest, his face pillowed in her breasts.

Her dress was ruined, the back half torn from the stone wall, the rest soaked in sweat and their juices. She sighed heavily, basking in the glow of her release, ignoring the presence of a man she cared little about resting on her chest, his cock still nestled inside her. She had a number of other men she needed to see, she could not spend too long here with him. 

Luckily Cerwyn was a young man and quickly picked himself up off her. He looked at her, an arrogant smile on his face. But not one that was not unearned, he had bedded the Queen after all and had her cumming all over his cock.

"Drink," Ceryen offered, handing her a glass of wine, she felt sated, exhausted. She had already shared cups with half the Northern Lords, she was already tipsy and exhausted. But still she drank, not wanting to offend the men she wished to win over.

"I’m famished," Cerywen said, his hand wandering to his bare belly. "Let us feast to celebrate this new alliance."

\--- 

She had drunk a little too much she thought absent-mindedly, her eyes drifting open then shut. A hand in her on her head, in her hair, guiding her head up was enough to get her to open her eyes once again . She looked up at Cerwyn's grinning face, his cock pressed against her cheek and lips, she opened her mouth taking him against her tongue. She moaned and sucked.

Cerwyn had gone to get more wine and food for his so-called feast. He had returned with enough food and drink to feed ten men, and he had returned with those men in tow as well. Lords from other Northern Houses. House Wells, Stane, Forrester and Blackwood she had recalled and a few more she had not.

They had drank and ate together in their private little party, mayhaps she had drank a little too much. She could hardly remember who had started it, a little flirting here, a brushed touch there.

Before long she had found herself with a man's hand on her breast, another between her legs and it was not long before she was grinding her hips against the fingers inside her, moaning as she came and blushing as half a dozen men watched.

Not long after that she was on her knees surrounded by cocks. Sucking and stroking and moaning and swallowing their seed. She could remember the taste of them, the feeling of warm cum splashing across her tongue, lips and face. Soon after that she had been tossed on her back, her legs spread, her cunt taken.

She could hardly remember how long ago that had been. It seemed that her plan to privately seduce each of the most influential Northern Lords had devolved into a wholehearted orgy that would make Lysenne whore blush.

Another man grabbed her hips, holding her steady as he slipped inside her. She looked down between her spread legs. He was thick, well built, his belly and chest covered in thick dark hair, Lord Blackwood? Stane? she could not tell as he entered her. His cock was thick, and hard, and her body bulged and stretched as he entered her.

She moaned loudly and lifted her hips to meet his. Her head was grabbed, forced to turn and another cock was forced into her mouth. She did not fight the men as they controlled her body, bent her to their will.

She was Daenerys Targaryen, rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, but at that moment it did not matter, she might as well have been a Fleabottom whore or Lysenne bed slave. Someone to be used and abused and she would not have it any other way.

Without warning the man between her lips throbbed, she heard his grunt then could taste him. His seed flooded her mouth, filling it, coating her tongue. He pulled free, and she let the cum ooze from her lips and onto her cheek and chin.

It's mere seconds before another cock was offered to her, she couldn't see from whom, but she did not care. She sealed her lips around it and suckled on his head, moaning as the man between her legs sped up, pounding into her. Fucking her hard and fast. Her body jerked, her breasts bounced. There were hands all over her, grasping and squeezing and molesting her. Breasts, throat, stomach, there wasn’t an inch of her left untouched. Men pawed at her like she was a thing. They laughed, moaned and groaned. Fingers pressed against her clit and it was almost enough to send her spiraling over that pleasurable edge. She shuddered and moaned, her body jerked up into the man's cock, countless hands and men all toying with her. She wanted more, she needed more.

But the man inside her finished too fast. She felt him throb, swell and knew he was about to spill inside her. But instead he pulled out from her cunt, the missing warmth and pressure of his cock left her feeling empty. She watched transfixed as he gripped his shaft, and he began to furiously pump his cock. She watched as the muscles of his stomach tense and flex and then he exploded sending cum splashing over her stomach and breast. Warm and sticky, it covered her, coated her naked flesh.

He wasn’t the first, she was covered in it, her breasts shined with spent seed, creamy white liquid pooled in her navel. She could feel it all over her, her thighs, her chest, her hands and face. She could taste it on her lips and tongue, feel it leaking from her cunt.

She did not have to wait long before another man took his spot and easily slid between her legs, then inside her cunt. She leaned back and returned her attention to the man in her mouth, and let herself be used.

It did not not take long before the men tore another orgasm from her. Her senses overwhelmed by their cocks and hands. She came with a whine and her body trembled, soft whimpers escaped her mouth and past the cock resting on her tongue. 

This time whoever is fucking her did not bother to pull out. He jerked inside her when he came, his hands digging painfully into her hips as he lurched forward, burying himself as deeply as he could as he exploded inside her. 

Daenerys convulsed around him. Her cunt clenching down around his cock. She cried out, her entire body squeezed him refusing to let him pull free. Her legs tighten around him, her cunt squeezed his cock, milking him. When he finally escapes her grasp she can feel him spill from her cunt. Cum from a half dozen different men, men who hadn't cum on her stomach or tits, but had instead buried themself deep inside the Queen. She can feel it drool from her, warm and sticky, down her cunt, over her ass. It's disgusting and thrilling. She shuts her eyes and shudders, her mind awash with the feeling.

The next man picks her up, hosting her up and she weakly clings to him. She's soaked with sweat and cum and her hands slip as she tries to hold on. She's tired, and weak, and her limbs feel boneless. But the man has no plans to drop her. His fingers dig painfully into the soft flesh of her ass as he guides her body.

"Gods," Daenerys moaned as she sank down on his cock. Her body slid tightly against him, supported by his hands on her ass, and the cock impaling her. 

She groaned again, then buried her head in the space between his head and chest. She wondered if this is how they'll find her, fucked senseless in the room of a random Northern Lords. Covered in cum and sweat and nearly delirious. What would Jon think of her, if he knew how much she had enjoyed it.

She feels the man behind her, his hard cock, slipping between the cheeks of her ass and all her previous thoughts are lost. She knows it will hurt but she welcomes it, knows the feeling of being completely full will be worth any pain. Carefully he lifts, her cunt aches as the cock inside it pulls nearly free.

And then there's pressure on her ass, the tight ring of muscles reluctant to ease entry.

Daenerys whimpered softly as gravity does the work. Two cocks inside her at once, she floating, sandwiched between the two Northern Lords and feeling impossibly full. And then they're moving, bouncing her up and down and she can't think, can't speak. She can't do anything but moan and cum and cry.

By the end of the night, she does not know how many men have used her, how many have cum inside her cunt and mouth and ass. How many have spilled their seeds over her pristine flesh.

Northern Lords, Knights, their servants? She did not know, could not tell, and did not care.

\---

Her body ached nearly as badly as her head. Mayhaps she had let things get carried away last night, too much wine, too many men. Being forced out of bed at near dawn to prepare for war did little to help things.

At least Winterfell's great hall was warm, its giant hearth behind her roaring with flame. Daenerys watched as the Lords of the Northern slowly began to fill the room.

They each glanced at her, some smiled, but most were as cold and icy as the storm outside. Northern hospitality at its finest and ever-present in the women who sat beside her.

More Lords entered the hall, taking the seats, servants gathered, bringing food and drink to break their fasts.

"This is not Essos." Lady Sansa finally spoke.

Daenerys turned to face the smug redhead, the ever-present look of superiority still ever-present.

"Did you think what you did last night would go unnoticed?" Sansa asked, she looked like she had just achieved some great victory. "I'm told you gave yourself to half the Castle."

Daenerys had to roll her eyes, then took a sip of her drink, she glanced at Jon who sat beside her oblivious, then back at Sansa. "Not nearly that many I think. Only a dozen or two." she said in a hushed whisper so no others might hear.

She could almost hear Sansa's teeth grinding the girl was clenching her jaw so tightly. "This is not Essos, Northern Men aren't the uncivilized barbarians. They will see you for what you are truly are, a whore and a fool They will never follow a you, they will never follow--"

"Northern men are just that, My Lady, men," Daenerys interrupted, tired of the girl's speel. Then she stood and all eyes turned to her. Watching and waiting.

She could see them all, Cerwyen, Blackwood, Manderly, that one boy, barely a man, the one with the massive cock. She tried to hold back a blush as he stared and the memories of his cock slapping across her face came back to her. She could remember the taste of him as he came in her mouth and the way her stomach clenched and turned as she swallowed him.

She cleared her throat, "War draws near, My Lords. The threat in the North approaches closer every day." The crowd murmured. "The cowards in the south have decided to hide from winter while the North stands its ground. The South has turned its back on you, The south has turned its back on all of us. But I have not." She glanced at each of the men she had fucked, each of the men whose cock had been inside her mouth, cunt and ass. "I stand with you now, as I always will. On the battlefield, in this great hall, everywhere! I will fight for you and together we will win, and then together, we will march south and make those cowards pay."

A hush covered the great hall and Sansa's grin grew, the stupid whore, the North would never fall.

And then the hall erupted in cheers and cries of battle and Sansa's face fell.

"The Dragon Queen!" they cheered, raising their glasses, their hands and swords.

Daenerys smiled, sitting back down then leaned over to Sansa. "Essosi, Northern, Southern, men are men My Lady."

She took a sip of her wine, smiling as the Northern men cheered for her, delighting as the color faded from Sansa's face. 

"I had hoped we could get along. I thought we shared much in common. We were both sold to men for the gain of others. We both have suffered so much. But I was wrong, we share little in common. I did not run from my first husband, I did not let him abuse me and cower in fear until someone had to save me. I saved myself My Lady. I made that man love me, adore me, listen to me. As I did to all your Northern Lords."

Sansa grit her teeth, "You fucked them all."

"I did," Daenerys replied, "and it seems they quite enjoyed themselves."

"You are a whore, not a Queen, they would never follow--"

"And yet they do, I fear you do not understand men or the world or anything as well as you think." Daenerys took a drink of her wine. "Men are drawn to power, and what is more powerful than a dragon? Do you know the story of how Visenya gained the loyalty of the Vale? She let their young King ride a dragon. In a way, I did the same for your Northern Lords."

Daenerys smiled and Sansa fumed.

“You are not fooling anyone Lady Sansa. Your men can still see the fear under all that confidence. They saw it when you refused to come south and meet Cersei for the peace talks. When you sent Brienne to represent you. They see it every time you open your mouth and petty jabs spill from your lips.” Daenerys sighed, and smiled at the Lords in the hall as they chanted her name.. “But I understand that fear and I am not cruel. As your Lords have learned I give much to those who follow me. So you may keep your frozen wasteland, rule here as Lady in your brother's sted, safe within Winterfell's walls. But after I save the North from the White Walkers, I will be taking your men and your brother south with me.” 

"Dragon Queen!" the crowd cheered as Sansa sank back into her chair, defeated.

New and improved condensed options for the next chapter. Leave a comment and review and pick whichever ones you like, feel free to pick multiple, feel free to add your own ideas or expand on something already on the list. Thanks. 

1\. A Ciri Story (Back to the Witcher)  
2\. A Sansa Story  
3\. Dany takes Jon prisoner  
4\. Son’s of the Harpy capture Dany  
5\. Instead of fleeing to Essos, Dany is taken in by Ned and grows up at Winterfell (Starks/Dany)  
6\. More of Dany as a sex slave in Essos  
7\. More of Dany at court. (Dany/Robert)   
8\. Dany gets captured by Cersei and becomes her sex slave  
9\. Dany wins the throne. Sam becomes grandmaester, but still resents Dany for killing his father and brother. So he uses his position to drug, molest and degrade the Queen without her knowing it.   
10\. Ramsey wins the battle of the bastards, takes Jon and Sansa as his pets. Dany allies with Ramsey not knowing what kind of person he is. Ramsey eventually breaks Dany.


End file.
